A Random Reunion
by easton.riley
Summary: After all these years, after all this hurt, it's still so easy to get lost in her. Told from Spencer's POV.
1. Blast from the Past

I sit at a street-side table just outside of a quaint coffee shop in West Hollywood with my laptop in front of me, files and notepads strewn about, and my second vanilla latte in my hand. I type furiously on the laptop keyboard, pounding out my latest idea for my weekly column for the LA Times. One of the perks of being a journalist is that I can work pretty much anywhere, and lately this sidewalk shop, blandly named The Coffee Bean, has been my favorite spot for inspiration and productivity.

After getting through a relatively tough paragraph that I rewrote close to fifteen times, I sigh and sit back in my chair, sipping my latte and watching the crowd pass by. People-watching in West Hollywood is one of my favorite past-times, and I allow myself a ten minute break from writing to enjoy the scenery around me.

"Can I get you anything, Spencer?" a voice asks from over my shoulder, pulling me from my daydreams.

"Oh, no," I recover, shaking my head and smiling up at my favorite waitress. "I'm fine. Thanks, Sam."

She smiles back at me and disappears into the shop. It's taken nearly two months to get on a first name basis with the gorgeous Sam, and it will probably take me two more months to get the courage to ask her out. 'My dating life is absolutely pathetic,' I think to myself as I take a deep breath and force the thought out of my mind, concentrating instead on the blinking cursor in the Word document in front of me. As I flip through a notepad for my next idea, I hear someone clear their throat next to me. I look up expecting to see Sam with fresh biscotti she'll tell me I just have to try, but instead lock eyes with an all-too-familiar face.

"Spencer?" she asks timidly, holding my stare.

It takes me a moment to respond, but I somehow kick my brain into gear and fumble over her name, the name I haven't spoken in years but still flows off my tongue with ease and familiarity.

"Ashley…" I say softly.

We say nothing, continuing to stare at each other with uncertainty. After all this time, I can't believe she's standing in front of me.

"You look great, Spencer," she finally says, flashing me that trademark nose-crinkling, dimple-baring smile.

"Thanks," I manage to reply, smiling weakly at her. "You do too."

"It's been awhile, huh?" she says, trying to sound casual despite the nervous hitch in her voice.

"Yeah," I agree, nodding.

We fall into another silence, neither of us sure of our next move. I can't decide if I want to strangle her with years of pent-up anger or if I want to shrink away and hide from this situation altogether, and when I look into her eyes I can see that she's struggling with the same emotions. Taking a deep breath, I swallow hard and force myself to say something… anything.

"Do you want to sit down?" I blurt out unexpectedly.

She raises her eyebrows slightly but tries to contain her surprise. She smiles again, that smile that I could never erase from my mind, and I watch her exhale a sigh of relief as she eases into the chair across the table from me. I try to clear away the papers and post-it notes to make room.

"You look busy," she comments, trying to make conversation.

"Yeah," I say, piling the loose pages to avoid looking at her again. "I'm working on my next column."

"I read it every week," she tells me, and I can't help but look up at her.

"You do?" I ask incredulously.

"It's really good, Spence," she replies, letting her old nickname for me slip out of her mouth unconsciously.

"Thanks," I say, trying to ignore the slip. "I, uh, you know, I have my off weeks, but…"

"You're a great writer," she interrupts me. "I always knew you'd do something great, and here you are."

I feel my cheeks flush at her genuine compliments and I have to look away. I know she's trying, but I can't bring myself to look into her eyes again. Instead, I clear my throat and try to continue our conversation with more small talk to ignore the larger topics rolling around in my head.

"What are you doing these days?" I ask her.

"I'm writing for a few people," she says, shrugging modestly. "Still haven't put out my own album, but I like this side of it. My stuff gets out there, and someone else gets to sing it much better than I ever could."

"I doubt that," I say, the closest I can come to a compliment.

"Thank you," she replies with a soft smile.

She holds my stare for a moment before I open my mouth again.

"Would I have heard anything of yours lately?" I ask.

"I actually worked with Marissa Kane on Angel Eyes," she offers humbly.

"I love that song," I tell her enthusiastically. "You wrote that?"

"Yeah," she says, shrugging again.

"It's really good, Ashley," I encourage her.

"It, uh… it's…" she stutters. She opens her mouth several times but no words come out. When I raise an eyebrow curiously at her, she smiles slightly and looks down at her hands. "I wrote it about you."

I feel my eyes widen and my jaw drop slightly at her revelation, and I struggle to maintain my composure. The number one song on the radio sung by one of the hottest up-and-coming artists in the country is about me? I take a deep breath and ease back against my chair, and she leans forward with an apologetic look on her face.

"I'm sorry," she says quickly. "I didn't mean to make you feel –"

"No, it's okay," I interrupt her, waving my hand as if it were nothing. "I'm flattered. It's a beautiful song."

We sit in an awkward silence for a moment, neither of us saying a word though I'm sure the thoughts in our heads could fill the space and then some. My heart races, my hands sweat, and I feel myself beginning to spiral out of control.

"I should really get back to work," I say softly.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes again, pushing her chair back to stand up. "I shouldn't keep you."

"No, no it's okay," I stutter. "I just, you know… this is due in, like, an hour and I've gotta…"

"I totally understand," she offers, reaching for her bag and throwing it over her shoulder. "I, uh, I actually have to get going myself."

After a brief pause, she hands me a card from her purse. I feel the sparks as our fingers touch lightly and try to ignore the tingle running down my spine. I look down at it and then back up at her.

"It was really great running into you, Spencer," she says genuinely. "If you ever want to run into each other again, you know, no pressure or anything, but… anyway, I'll get out of your hair, but if I don't see you, take care of yourself."

"You too," I repeat, nodding.

She holds my stare a moment longer before smiling and turning to walk away. As much as I try not to, I can't help but watch her walk away until she disappears into the crowd as if she had never existed in the first place. I look down at her card again and read the information on it a dozen times.

"Spencer?" a voice asks from over my shoulder.

I look up and see Sam standing next to me with a plate of biscotti.

"Are you okay?" she asks, concerned.

"Yeah," I recover, smiling at her.

"You've gotta try this biscotti," she offers with a friendly smile.

I reach for the plate and nod my thanks before she walks back into the café. I look at my computer screen, then at the plate in my hand, then back at Ashley's card before realizing I won't get any more work done today. I quietly pack up my belongings, leave a ten dollar bill and the untouched biscotti on the table, and walk the five blocks towards my apartment.


	2. Dinner?

When I arrive home, I close the door and lean my forehead against it, heaving a heavy sigh. I drop my computer bag on the couch before realizing Ashley's card is still in my hand. After looking at it again, I reach for my cell phone and dial the number, the butterflies in my stomach going crazy. She answers after two rings.

"Hello?" she asks on the other end of the line.

"Is this Ashley?" I ask for clarification.

"Yeah, this is her," she replies, her voice raspy.

"Hey, it's Spencer," I tell her lamely.

"Hi!" she says enthusiastically after a brief pause. "I, uh, I didn't think you'd call."

"Me neither," I admit with a chuckle.

She laughs lightly before saying, "well, I'm glad you did."

I hear the smile in her voice and it immediately brings one to my face.

"I wanted to apologize," I begin slowly. "I mean, you know… for… I shouldn't have just pushed you away like that, and –"

"It's okay, Spencer," she interrupts me gently. "No worries. It was just really good to see you, you know?"

"Yeah," I agree, nodding even though she can't see my head moving. "Yeah, it was."

A silence falls between us, and I blurt out the first thought in my head without really thinking it through.

"Do you want to have dinner with me tonight?" I ask suddenly.

When I don't hear an immediate answer, I regret that the invitation slipped out of my mouth and I think about how to take it back before she finally answers.

"I'd love to," she says, that smile still in her voice.

"Okay," I answer slowly. "Um, do you know that new Thai place on Wilshire?"

"Yeah, I hear it's really great," she offers. "I can meet you there at seven, if you want."

"Okay," I repeat. "Seven. I'll see you then."

I hang up without another word so I don't lose my nerve completely. I look down at my cell phone and notice my hand shaking. 'Get a grip, Spencer,' I tell myself, taking a deep breath. When I look at the clock on the wall, I notice that I only have four and a half hours to panic over my impending dinner date with Ashley Davies. I open up my cell phone again and push the first speed dial entry.

"Hey, sis, what's up?" Chelsea's familiar voice answers.

"I ran into Ashley today and we're having dinner tonight," I blurt out quickly without taking a breath.

"I'll be right over," she promises after a brief pause.

My sister-in-law arrives a half-hour later and tears me away from the tread I've been wearing in the carpet due to excessive and panicked pacing.

"You need a drink," she tells me with a smile before disappearing into the kitchen.

She returns a moment later with two glasses of clear liquid and I raise an eyebrow at her.

"Relax," she says, rolling her eyes and placing a hand on her swollen belly. "I won't start getting the baby drunk this early. We'll wait until he's born, at least."

I laugh and ease into the couch with her at my side, sipping on the vodka tonic and allowing it to burn as it makes its way down my throat. She sighs and props her feet up on my coffee table.

"How are you feeling, mama?" I ask, placing a hand gently on her belly.

"My ankles are swollen, my back hurts, I'm exhausted, and haven't seen my toes in months," she answers with a weak smile. "But, other than that…"

"Is my brother rubbing your feet like he promised?" I ask threateningly.

"Glen's been great," she assures me. "He's really excited, especially since he knows we're having a boy."

I smile and take another sip of my drink. I sigh, wondering where to begin my story.

"Was it completely, terribly awful?" she asks me, concern in her voice.

"No," I admit honestly. "It was… nice, actually. She looks great, and I could tell she was trying really hard, you know…"

"Okay, tell me everything and don't leave one single detail out," she says, a smile on her face. "I've been dying for a good piece of gossip for awhile."

"This is hardly gossip, Chels," I remind her, rolling my eyes. "This is… I don't know what this is, but I'm sure it's gonna be a complete and total disaster."

"How do you know that?" she challenges me.

"The last conversation we ever had was full of yelling and things being thrown and I just don't want to relive that again," I finally answer her.

"You were different people then," she reminds me gently. "You were both hurt, you were angry, you said things you shouldn't, but it's in the past, right? I mean, Spence, that was five years ago. Think of where you've been in the past five years."

I allow my mind to quickly gloss over the last few years of my life and know Chelsea has a point. I graduated from UCLA, got a great job at the Times, started writing my own column, dated a beautiful woman for almost two years with whom I shared an apartment and a cat and an amazingly amicable break-up… I had a lot to be proud of. I had moved on after Ashley, even when I thought it couldn't be done.

"I know," I admit, hanging my head. "But it's still so… fresh, you know? I mean, I know it's been a long time, but sometimes it still feels like yesterday."

"It's hard to get over your first love," she says knowingly.

"Especially when she shows up out of nowhere after five years and throws your entire life off balance," I say.

"Yep, that would make it pretty hard," Chelsea jokes with me. "Look, here's what you're going to do, Spencer. You're gonna mope and whine and relive the pain and anger of your break-up for exactly thirty more seconds, and then you're gonna leave it in the past where it belongs, get over yourself, and go have dinner with Ashley."

"Thirty seconds?" I ask, a whine in my voice. "All you'll give me is thirty seconds? I haven't even gotten to the really good stuff, like the cheating and the lying and the yelling and –"

"You're down to ten seconds, sister," Chelsea warns, raising an eyebrow.

I close my mouth and pretend to sulk.

"No more sulking, either," she says, nudging me with her elbow.

"You are no fun," I grumble in protest. "But you're going to make an amazing mother."

"We'll find out here in a month," she says, putting her hands on her belly.

"You know, you're the best sister a girl could ask for," I tell her genuinely, leaving out the 'in-law' part.

"You too, Spence," she says with a wink.


	3. Jitters and Nerves

Three hours and lots of laughter later, Chelsea leaves my apartment with strict instructions on what to wear and how to behave on my date with Ashley. Despite my exaggerated eye rolls, I silently thank the heavens for Chelsea and the way she always manages to calm me down. I look at my outfit in the mirror for the hundredth time, run my fingers through my hair, and watch the minutes tick closer and closer to six thirty.

"Relax, Spencer," I tell myself out loud.

Feets, the cat I bought for my ex on our anniversary but who somehow managed to come with me after the break-up, purrs up at me as he rubs against my leg.

"Do you think I'm crazy, Feetsie?" I ask after picking him up and running my fingers through his smooth mane.

He purrs again and I kiss his nose, setting him down gently as I give myself one last look in the mirror.

"Well, it's now or never," I say out loud, more to myself than to Feets.

I lock my apartment door, walk out to the sidewalk, and hail the first cab I see. I give him the address and tell him to take his time, not wanting to be there too early. It takes exactly a half hour to get to the restaurant, and I have the cabbie drive me around the block for good measure. When he finally lets me out, I roll my eyes at the pathetic waste of the extra two dollars.

I take a deep breath and walk into the restaurant. Though it's dimly-lit and almost every table is full, I catch Ashley's eye immediately as if somehow drawn to her. She stands up and waves and I make my way towards her.

As I get closer, I notice how different she looks. I must have been in such a state of shock earlier today when we first ran into each other to notice, but now that I have time to really look at her, I realize it right away. Gone is the heavy eyeliner and mascara she used to wear, and in its place is light and moderately-applied makeup that bring out the deep chocolate in her eyes. Instead of the normal short skirts and chunky heels she used to wear day-in and day-out, she's wearing a simple black top and a pair of worn jeans. Her auburn hair hangs in loose curls around her face, but she's gotten rid of that streak of red she used to insist was fashionable. In short, she looks absolutely fucking beautiful, and I have to force my heart to slow down to a normal pace.

"Hey," she says gently, offering me that trademark Ashley Davies smile.

"Hey yourself," I reply, smiling back at her.

We sit down and a waiter is immediately at our table, asking for our drink orders. I allow Ashley to go first and set the tone, and when she orders a glass of white wine I ask for the same. Ashley laughs as the waiter walks away, and I raise an eyebrow to question her.

"I was just thinking," she says between giggles, "that the last time we were together, we weren't old enough to order a drink."

I join in her laughter and feel the tension begin to ease.

"I guess I never took you for a wine drinker," I say.

"I got over that whole slugging tequila and vodka shots phase a long time ago," she tells me, shrugging. "These days, I'm more of a glass of wine on special occasions type of girl."

"Is this a special occasion?" I ask her, smiling.

"I think so," she tells me, matching my smile. "How often do you run into your ex in the middle of broad daylight in a city this big after five years?"

We laugh again, despite the sting I feel of hearing her call me her ex. I grab the menu and begin to gloss over it, needing a distraction.

"I hear the pad Thai is amazing," she offers.

I peek at her over the top of my menu and notice her playing with a silver ring on her left hand, a gesture she always did when she was nervous. I smile at the memory, but then feel a panicked sense of dread that her ring is actually an engagement ring – or worse, a wedding band – and that I've misread this entire situation. My hands start to sweat and my heart races, and I reach for the glass of water next to me to take a large gulp.

"You okay, Spencer?" she asks, concern in her voice.

"Yeah," I say, trying to sound casual. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Look, I'm really nervous, too," she admits with a smile. "This is sorta awkward, you know? And after everything… can we just pretend that we're two old friends catching up, instead of, you know, two bitter and angry exes that haven't seen each other in years and could hardly stand to be in the same room together?"

Her last comment has me laughing yet again, and I silently thank her for the way she always knows how to break the tension.

"Agreed," I tell her, nodding firmly.

The waiter returns to the table and sets our glasses down.

"Thank God," Ashley says, reaching for the wine and taking a large sip.

"You believe in God?" I ask sarcastically, gasping in mock surprise.

She sticks her tongue out at me playfully and I smile, happy to have this version of Ashley back. We order our meals and settle back into our chairs. I know it's time to start talking, but I'm not sure where to start.

"So, where have you been the last few years?" she asks casually, trying to kick it off.

"Do you want the short, condensed version, or the long, boring story that my mother so proudly tells everyone she's ever met?" I ask with a smile and an eye roll.

"How is Paula?" Ashley asks, laughing.

"She's great, actually," I admit. "Still at the hospital, of course, but she doesn't work crazy hours anymore. She's about to be a grandmother, so –"

"Wait, hold the phone," Ashley interrupts, holding her hand up. "Grandmother?"

I laugh and shake my head. "Definitely not me," I assure her. "Glen and Chelsea. They got married a few years back and their first baby is due next month."

"Wow," she says, her eyes wide with surprise. "I never… I mean… I can't believe they…"

"I didn't think they'd last either," I admit. "But they're great together, and they're really happy."

"That's awesome," she says, smiling. "You'll have to tell them all I said hi, especially your dad."

"I will," I promise. "Speaking of… how's Kyla?"

"Married, of course," she says, rolling her eyes. "She met this guy, Ryan, a few years ago, and they actually just got married this summer. They live out in Boston now."

"Really?" I ask curiously. "Why Boston?"

"He got a job out there," she explains. "Kyla was so in love that she dropped everything out here and followed him to cold, snowy Boston. But, I guess it worked out in the end."

"That's really great," I say. "Tell her I said hi next time you talk to her."

"Definitely," she says.

Though my next question is on the tip of my tongue, I have a hard time spitting it out. Just the thought of him causes the vomit to rise up to my throat, but I have to know the answer.

"How's Aiden?" I ask, trying to sound calm.

"He's good," she replies after a moment. "He got married, too, believe it or not."

"Wait, are you… you're not…" I stutter.

"We never were," she interrupts me gently. "It was a stupid thing, me and Aiden, and if I could take anything in my entire life back, that would be it, in a heartbeat."

I look into her eyes and see honesty mirrored with pain. I had always secretly hoped that she regretted the affair with Aiden, and it's nice to hear her admit to that.

"Let me just say this and get this part out of the way, okay?" she asks gently, leaning across the table to look deeper into my eyes.

I nod but say nothing, allowing her to continue.

"What I did… what happened with Aiden," she begins slowly. "It was a mistake, Spencer. It was a big, huge, terrible mistake that I have regretted every single day of my life. And the worst thing about it was that I hurt you, especially after I promised not to. I just… I can't tell you how sorry I am for the way things ended between us."

I swallow hard and force back the tears threatening to fall.

"Hey, we both screwed up," I say, shrugging. "We both made mistakes."

"You didn't screw up nearly as bad as I did," she challenges me.

"Okay, you're right," I admit with a smile. "But in the end, we left each other. And I think it was for the best, you know? I mean, being on my own really forced me to find myself and live my own life, and I couldn't have done that with you. Not that I'm forgiving you for fucking Aiden…"

She laughs and nods her head in understanding.

"Just don't beat yourself up over it anymore, okay?" I ask her softly. "It's in the past."

"Thanks, Spence," she says, smiling at me.

I hold her gaze and she looks back at me so intently that I swear I can see her soul. I'm somewhat relieved when the waiter comes and brings our food, interrupting a moment so intense that I could have gotten lost in it forever.


	4. Hailing a Cab

"Wow, this looks amazing," I say, glancing down at my plate before back up at Ashley.

"Yeah, it does," she agrees softly, keeping her eyes on me.

I smile at her and, after she smiles back, turn my attention towards the food to give myself a moment of clarity. After the first bite, I look back up at her and watch her struggling with the chopsticks, despite the numerous lessons I gave her years ago.

"Still haven't figured those things out, have you?" I ask, laughing.

"Hey, shut up," she teases, throwing them on the table and reaching for a fork.

"I guess I'll have to teach you again," I say, sighing in mock frustration.

"If I didn't get it the first hundred times," she says with a smile, "I don't think I ever will."

We eat for a moment in silence, and I enjoy just sitting with her. At least, until she asks the question that I know has been on her mind since we first ran into each other earlier today.

"Are you seeing anyone?" she asks, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Not anymore," I tell her vaguely.

"What does that mean?" she asks curiously. "I mean, it's not my business, but…"

"Nosey," I tease her, smiling. "No, we, uh… we broke up. We were together for two years, but I guess in the end, we just wanted different things."

"Like what?" she pries gently.

"She wanted marriage and kids and a house in the suburbs," I offer, picking through my food. "And I wanted our life the way it was. We were living together and we had a cat, and we could pick up and go on vacation anytime we wanted, you know? I wasn't ready for responsibility, and she was."

"So, what happened?" she asks, begging me to continue.

"We both kinda realized it wasn't working," I say with a shrug, "and we've been able to stay in touch and have a pretty decent friendship ever since."

"Wait, that's it?" she asks incredulously. "You just broke up, and there wasn't any fighting or cheating or anything?"

I laugh and shake my head, shrugging again as if I were apologizing for the lack of drama.

"I had no idea that type of break-up actually existed," she says, dumbfounded.

"Me neither," I agree, smiling at her. "But, to be honest, it wasn't nearly as much fun. It was too boring, you know? Not nearly enough heat or passion. I think if you love someone… that's when you fight."

She stares back at me as if she's unsure of what to say, and I am having trouble finding the right words myself. I decide to take the easy way out by rolling my eyes and smiling at her before turning back to my food as if it were nothing.

"What about you?" I ask a moment later. "Seeing anyone?"

"No," she says, shaking her head. "I've been kinda working on myself for awhile, so there hasn't been much room for anyone else."

"That's good, Ash," I say, smiling at her. "I mean, you know, that you're working on yourself… not that… you know…"

"I know what you meant," she interrupts me, smiling back. "I dated a few girls that weren't complete train wrecks, but I guess I just haven't found that perfect person yet."

I nod and take another sip of wine.

"So, wait," I ask for clarification after a moment, "Aiden got married?"

"Yeah, I know," she says, rolling her eyes. "I couldn't believe it, either. He actually invited me to the wedding, too, which was a huge shocker."

"Did you two have a fight or something?" I ask.

"After you and I… after we broke up," she says, wincing as if the words hurt as much as the actual act she was describing, "Aiden and I lasted about another day and we both realized that all we were doing was hurting ourselves and each other and pretty much everyone around us, so we decided it was time to stop. I swear I never even kissed him again."

I hold my hands up as if it didn't matter to me, but I secretly rejoice in the fact that they'd kept their word and kept their hands off each other for five years now.

"So, anyway," she continues, "he met this girl named Jodi and they fell in love and I guess the rest is history."

"Do you still see each other?" I ask.

"Every now and then," she replies, shrugging. "Jodi's great, she really is. They're really happy together."

"That's good," I say, not knowing what else to say.

She nods and smiles. "You don't have to pretend to like him," she tells me.

"I know," I say, smiling back. "But I don't want bad things for him or anything. I'm glad he's happy and he's found someone."

"Me too," she agrees.

We fall into another silence and I allow it to wash over us. I feel relieved for some reason, as if Ashley and I really could get back on track to at least a decent friendship again.

"I'm really glad we did this, Spencer," she tells me after a moment.

"Me too," I say, smiling. "It's good to see you."

We continue our meal with small talk and laughter, and when we finally call it a night after two glasses of wine, I feel like my heart has finally started to mend. We step outside the restaurant and wait for a cab. When one finally comes around and we realize that we live on opposite ends of the city and couldn't feasible split it, she graciously offers it to me.

"Are you sure?" I ask.

"Yeah, no problem," she replies. "Another one will be by any minute."

"I can't believe you don't have a car," I say, smiling.

"This city's a pain to drive around in," she admits, smiling back. "It's easier to call a cab."

"I guess some things change," I comment.

"And some things stay the same," she tells me.

We stare at each other for a moment before the cab driver honks at me.

"Are you getting in or what, lady?" he asks gruffly.

I roll my eyes and open the back door, climbing in before allowing either Ashley or I an opportunity for an awkward goodbye.

"It was great to see you, Ashley," I tell her.

"You too," she agrees. "Let's do this again sometime soon."

"Definitely," I say, nodding.

For some reason, I can't seem to tear my eyes away from her, and the cabbie asks me yet again for my address. I look at him, then back at Ashley, then back at the driver again before stepping out of the cab and closing the door behind me. He speeds off graciously while I stand on the curb with a very confused-looking Ashley.

"Okay, here's the thing," I say quickly, not wanting to lose my nerve. "I know I'm totally pushing it here because it's been so long and everything has been really great tonight, and I don't want to screw anything up but I –"

"Spencer, breathe," she interrupts me with a smile, putting her arms on my shoulders.

I look into her eyes and take a deep breath, my body reacting to the once-familiar feeling of her touch.

"Talk to me," she whispers, our faces only inches apart.

"I don't know what to say," I whisper back.

"You had plenty to say a second ago," she says, smiling at me.

I laugh and look away, running my hands through my hair so I have something to do with all my nervous energy.

"I don't want it to end, either," she tells me.

"Do you want to have another drink?" I ask hopefully.

"Where?" she asks.

"My place?" I offer boldly.

She swallows hard and I notice her eyes go wide before she recovers.

"Are you sure?" she asks.

"I'm not sleeping with you," I blurt out.

"Okay," she says, nodding. "I'm not sleeping with you, either."

"Okay," I repeat.

Suddenly and without warning, our lips crash together and her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer. A moan passes from my mouth to hers, and she smiles against my lips. I wrap my arms around her waist, remembering the feel of her body against mine. After a moment, we pull apart and look at each other, trying to assess the situation.

"Wow," she finally whispers, pressing her forehead against mine.

"No shit," I whisper back with a short laugh.

"What the hell do we do now?" she asks me.

"I have no idea," I answer honestly.

"Clearly, if we go back to your place, we'll end up sleeping together," she points out, trying to be logical.

"Clearly," I agree, nodding.

"So…" she draws out.

"So…" I mirror.

"How far away do you live, exactly?" she asks, an eyebrow raised mischievously.

"We can be there in a half-hour, tops," I reply, matching her playful tone.

We both turn towards the street and raise our arms to hail a cab, laughing at ourselves. She looks at me and smiles, and I feel my knees go weak.

"This is a totally terrible idea," I tell her playfully.

"Totally," she agrees, holding her smile. "Ooh, look, there's a cab!"

"For a totally terrible idea," I say, "you are way too excited."

"Just get in the car, Spence," she says, rolling her eyes at me.


	5. Sex or Something More

We pile into the backseat and I give the driver my address. As we pull away, I study Ashley's profile while she looks out the window. Though it's been five years and she looks different, she's somehow exactly the same as the first day I met her. She turns to face me and flashes that trademark smile of hers. Even though we say nothing on the entire drive home, the cab is filled with both excitement and nerves. I throw the cabbie a twenty and don't ask for change as I step onto the curb in front of my building.

"This is me," I say to Ashley as the cab pulls away.

"I love this neighborhood," she comments, looking around.

"Yeah, it's really great," I agree, fishing through my bag for my keys.

We say nothing else until we get inside my apartment and the front door is closed behind us. We stand in the living room staring at each other. Feets joins us and rubs against my leg until I break my staring contest with Ashley and give him some attention.

"Is this… is this the cat that you…" she stutters.

"Yeah," I reply, shrugging. "This is Feets."

"Feets?" she asks, smiling.

I smile back and put the cat on the ground. He scampers off to the kitchen and Ashley and I are again left alone.

"We weren't really original when we named him," I offer as an explanation.

"So, do you have, like, joint custody or something?" she jokes. "Does she take him every other weekend?"

We laugh together and the tense moment passes. I tell her to make herself comfortable as I disappear into the kitchen to pour two glasses of wine. When I return, she's holding a picture from the mantle and studying the image. She looks up at me with an embarrassed look on her face, as if I've caught her doing something wrong, and I smile at her to tell her it's okay.

"That's Kate," I offer after handing her the wineglass.

"Is this the ex?" she asks, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Yeah," I say, sitting on the couch and taking a sip of wine.

"She's really beautiful," she says, and I'm not sure if she's complimenting me or Kate.

"Yeah, she is," I agree, nodding.

"You made a really pretty couple together," she says as she sets the frame down and looks at me.

"Thanks," I say.

She joins me on the couch and props her bare feet up on my coffee table.

"Do you think we'd still be together?" she asks randomly after a moment of silence. "I mean, you know, if I didn't sleep with Aiden or anything."

I laugh for a moment but realize she's being serious and quickly stifle my giggles.

"We probably still would have broken up for some reason or another," I admit honestly. "It wasn't entirely your fault, Ashley."

"I know," she says, sighing. "But I still feel like… I don't know, some days I feel like I screwed up the best thing that ever happened to me."

I set my wine glass down and turn my body towards her, cupping her face in my hands. I watch a single tear roll down her cheek and I quickly wipe it away.

"It's all in the past, remember?" I ask her gently.

"But now it's in the present," she tells me, her voice quivering. "It's happening right now, and it's real, and you're really here and… I don't want to screw this up again."

"Who says you will?" I ask. "Who says this will even go beyond tonight? I don't know what's going on with us, Ashley, and I don't know what will happen down the road, but I do know that being with you right now, in this exact moment… everything feels right, and I'm not going to think about the past and I'm not going to think about the future. All I want to think and feel and breathe is this, the right now."

She smiles at me and I hope I've given her the reassurance I need myself.

"No wonder you're a writer," she says softly.

"That's why I make the big bucks," I joke with her, smiling back.

She leans in and presses her lips to mine softly before pulling away.

"This could be a really bad idea," she tells me, as if warning me against possible death.

"Yeah," I nod. "It probably is."

Without allowing her another moment to protest, I capture her lips with mine. Though hesitant at first, the kiss quickly becomes passionate, and I savor the feeling of her hands on my skin. We slowly and patiently allow our hands to roam each other's bodies, exploring the once-familiar territory to get reacquainted. We pull away from each other for a moment, looking into each other's eyes.

"We don't have to," she whispers, her breathing labored. "I mean, we can stop, if you want…"

"Since when do you shy away from sex?" I tease her, smiling.

"Spence…" she breathes, and I know enough about this woman to quit joking.

"Talk to me," I whisper, repeating her sentiments from before.

"With you, it's never just been sex," she admits softly. "It still isn't."

"I know," I tell her, nodding as I run my fingers through her hair. "I honestly didn't think this would happen. Any of it, I mean. Running into you today, having dinner, kissing you again…"

"I always hoped it would," she confesses. "I dreamed about it and hoped for it for so long, Spence. And now that it's actually happening… I don't know if I can."

"I know it's fast," I say, trying to comfort her. "I know it's unexpected and sudden and emotional and all of that. And you're right, we don't have to do anything tonight, okay?"

"Maybe we can just slow things down a bit," she says. "You know, talk some more. There are still huge holes in the past five years that I don't know about."

"Like what?" I ask, sitting back and sipping my wine. "Anything you want to know, ask."

"Anything?" she clarifies.

"Anything," I tell her confidently.

She thinks a moment and takes another sip of wine. I study her as she ponders her next move, and I realize just how badly I want her. I force myself to calm down and take things slow, but my body craves her touch and I still haven't been able to slow my heart down since the first kiss outside of the restaurant.

"God, you're beautiful," I whisper without realizing it.

She looks into my eyes and a gentle smile appears on her face. I feel almost embarrassed for admitting my thoughts to her, but she reassures me by grabbing my hand in hers and squeezing it softly.

"Thank you," she says genuinely. "You know, you still look like you did the day we met."

"No way," I argue, shaking my head. "That was, like, eight years ago, Ash."

"I know," she says, smiling. "But beauty never changes, and you… you're still the most beautiful woman I've ever known."


	6. I Missed You

I sit back against the couch and smile, reveling in the compliment Ashley has given me. Though the mood has changed and something between us feels heavy and strained, I allow myself to simply be with her and enjoy it, however messy and complicated it is. I know we've moved past the awkward reunion, the mundane small talk to catch each other up on the past five years, but now we're stuck in the in between and can't seem to move past it. When I glance over at her, I can tell she's struggling, too. I watch as she tries to hide a yawn. I glance at the clock and realize it's almost midnight.

"No pressure or anything," I begin slowly, "but if you want to stay, we can go lie down and talk where it's more comfortable."

"Are you trying to get me into bed with you, Spencer Carlin?" she says with mock surprise.

"Of course," I reply, smiling. "But, seriously, I mean… we don't have to do anything, I promise, I just… I don't want this to end yet."

"Me neither," she agrees. "Okay, you win. Take me to bed."

I laugh and stand up, reaching my hand out for her to grab. She takes it without hesitation and I flip off the lights in the apartment as we make our way to the bedroom. When I switch on a soft bedside lamp, she takes a look around the room.

"Did you… uh…" she begins to ask.

"What, Ash?" I coax her gently.

"Did you live here together?" she asks softly.

"No," I answer, shaking my head. "This place I got all on my own after we broke up."

"Oh," she says.

We're quiet for a moment and I can't quite figure out how to ease her nerves.

"We don't have to do this," I tell her after a moment. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Ashley. I promise, no hard feelings at all if you want to leave."

"But that's the thing," she counters, "I don't want to go home. I don't want to be anywhere in the entire world except here with you."

"Okay," I say slowly. "So, what's wrong?"

"I want you," she admits. "But I don't want to hurt you."

"This sounds oddly familiar," I say with a smile, bringing a hand to her cheek.

"It's still true," she whispers. "I can't help but think that I'm bad for you, and that I'm gonna hurt you somehow. I can't do it again."

"Come here," I whisper, more of a hope than a command.

She falls into my arms and we hold each other for what feels like an eternity. I feel her body melt into mine with such ease that it almost takes my breath away. After all these years, after all of this hurt, it's still so easy to get lost in her.

"I don't want to hurt you, either," I admit softly. "It's okay to be scared, and it's okay to be confused, but please trust me. I need you to trust me here."

"I do," she tells me quickly. "I've never trusted anyone more in my entire life."

I pull away from her hesitantly and notice her wet cheeks. I wipe away her tears and feel my own springing to my eyes.

"Why is this so hard?" I ask, my voice quivering.

"I don't know," she replies with a gentle smile.

I clear my throat and force down my emotions. Turning to my closet, I pull out two pairs of sweatpants and two tee-shirts, throwing one pair of clothes at her. She grabs them but continues to hold my stare, and I know I can't hold myself back for much longer. I need to feel her again, I need to touch her and kiss her and know that she's real, even if only for one night. Dropping my pajamas, I run over to her and press my lips against hers, hard and rough. She pushes back, moaning into my mouth as she wraps her arms around me tightly.

We fall to the bed but don't break our embrace. My lips move to her neck, and she throws her head back to allow me better access. I lick and suck at her pulse point, a spot I'm glad to remember that used to drive her crazy.

"Spencer," she moans, rising her hips up into mine.

"God, Ashley…" I groan in response.

We look at each other for a moment to assess the situation before we hit the point of no return. I see the desire in her eyes and I know she wants me as badly as I want her.

"Are you sure?" I ask her, panting.

"Yes," she says, nodding frantically. "Please… I need you, Spence."

I can't wait any longer, and I slide my hand past the waist of her jeans and inside her panties, feeling her for the first time in five years. My breath hitches in my throat when she moans and rolls her hips into me. I quickly unzip her jeans and tug them off to give myself better access. Her hands move to the hem of my shirt and play with the sensitive skin of my stomach, teasing me. I pull at her shirt, too, as she slides her fingers down to the zipper of my jeans. Before I know it, we've thrown our clothing into a messy pile on the ground and lay together skin-to-skin.

We move together in sync as if no time has passed at all, our bodies remembering an internal rhythm that only we know. Our hands explore and our hips roll together, begging for more. As she moves her fingers inside me, I feel the rush of excitement and adrenaline surging in my stomach, my orgasm growing faster and stronger with each stroke. I can tell she's close, too, but I try to hold off as long as possible, wanting it to happen together. Her moans grow louder, and I know it'll only be another second. My fingers find that once-familiar spot and she tumbles over the edge, her fingers digging deeper into me as her back arches off the bed. I come just a second later, and we ride it out together until we can't take it any longer and collapse against the bed. Our naked bodies fall in a heap together, arms and legs tangled up as we try desperately to catch our breath.

"Wow," I finally whisper to her.

"That was…" she struggles to say, her chest heaving as she gasps for air. "That was amazing."

I smile as I nuzzle into her neck, placing a gentle kiss on her collarbone. I sigh and push my sweaty hair away from my face. When I look up at her, she smiles down at me and I feel my heart melt.

"I missed you," I whisper to her, running my fingers through her hair.

"I missed you, too," she whispers back.


End file.
